


Proposition

by impish_nature



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Banter, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 07:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Wilson should know by now not to assume or hope for the best. Not when the world was constantly out to get them.But really, was it much to ask for that one day- just one day- they would get out of danger unharmed?Prompt: "Take off your shirt" (Angst)





	Proposition

Relief ached through him like a tangible wound. 

It left him in a sharp exhale, hollowing out the fear from the pit of his stomach to erupt as ice cold mist from his mouth. The adrenaline fizzled out along with it, vibrating from his very core to leave his legs weak and wobbling against the sudden shift of his mental state. In it's place, the purple bruised skin, the overused muscles and creaking bones made themselves known, cried out that they had been abused, pushed too far- but the relief held fast around them, soothing them all with the mantra of what could have been.

He may hurt, but pain meant life.

And right now- they were home.

It wasn't much but still, the little safe haven with it's glowing embers against the oncoming darkness, melted the cage of dread that had wrapped it's way around his heart earlier that day.

"We made it." The words panted out of him, more exhausted warm puffs of air than any real sound, but still, in the silence of the snow it seemed to reverberate between the small grove.

Winter had set in, cold and white across the expand of the constant, leaving them little food and even less shelter against the elements. The dangers of the night now extended that much further into the day, with warmth now taking centre stage in their small wheel of necessities. He quickly pulled off his backpack, throwing a few logs on the fire and marvelling at their haul in the small circle of light. They'd have enough material to keep themselves warm throughout the season if they were smart enough, the small pang of guilt at the thought of the shaved beefalo from the early hours of the morning almost completely eclipsed by the feeling of the wool between his fingers.

They'd survive without it. Him and his companion however, would not.

Wilson blinked, his companion even quieter than usual. He'd have expected some sneering remark by now, some small mocking jab that would make him snort and bite something witty back. It was just how they worked, how they ran, two cogs in a machine that worked well together and yet against each other all at once. His eyes flicked to the gloom, no longer adjusted after the sudden influx of light, to the shadowed figure that stood just out of the light's touch.

"Maxwell? What are you doing? Your thermal stones going to run out soon if you're not careful."

His eyes narrowed as the man took one step forward, his legs coming into vision before he stopped again, swaying where he stood. 

"Maxwell?"

There was still no response.

Wilson swallowed, standing up from his spot to take a few steps closer to the other. The relief from earlier had dimmed, pulsing back into a solid layer of fear in the pit of his stomach. The day had been arduous, of course it had, it always was- but today they had escaped, today they had won against the game.

Or so he had thought.

They had been caught short in their return by the winter hunting party, the baying of the hounds and the deep low commands of their owners following them through the cold, blizzard snows that slowed them down and tripped them without a moments notice.

He'd seen his companion go down as the dogs descended on them but it had only been for a second, that jolt of motion knocking the vicious beast off course and letting his friend lurch back up and continue in their sprint away from the hostile campers.

He hadn't noticed the drips of red that had leaked from beneath the others fingers, nor the trail they had left in their wake that had no doubt kept the hunters on their tails for much longer than usual.

Now though, it was obvious. The material of the other man's clothing stuck to him in black, viscous patches against the firelight, his hands stained as they clutched to his side. He was sure the other had come to the same conclusion as him, the safety of the firelight sending a shock wave of relief throughout his core. However, then the wound had made itself known through the haze of adrenaline, an alarm bell that had sapped him of his strength and left him far fainter than his counterpart.

Wilson took another step forward as Maxwell lurched forward another wobbling step. His eyes snapped to his sharply, trying to convey some air of control even now, whilst his complexion was pallid as the melting snow around them. 

"What's that ridiculous look all about?"

Wilson didn't reply, his eyes still caught on the slight sway to the other's entire body. So instead he moved. He rushed forward, ignoring the indignant yelp as he pulled the other close to the fire where he could see more clearly, pushing him down into a sitting position without any trepidation. "Stay there."

"Excuse me-"

Wilson ignored the resistance from the other, pushing down on his shoulder with a firm hand. He also ignored how weak the resistance was, how the push against his ministrations was lukewarm at best and the thin material between them felt far colder than it should as if the others body heat had leaked out along with the rivulets of blood running through his fingers. "Stay. Get warm. I'll be right back."

There were protests from behind as he walked away, mystified irritation if he really had to put a finger on it but he refused to bite, his attention elsewhere. He rattled around some of their chests, digging through for resources with a frustrated grumble every time he came up empty. 

It felt like it was taking an age to find the materials he needed, each second another blood-soaked piece of sand falling through the hourglass. He gave a soft noise of triumph at the jar of honey that rolled out from the bottom of a chest as he pulled it apart, snatching it up before it rolled out of sight again. He made quick work of the bandages they'd already made before, slicking them up with the medicinal liquid that would no doubt cause more protests from his strange companion.

Regardless, he would do as he was told, the sticky material their best option in this world that refused to let them rest. 

He returned to the others side, amused by the distasteful expression he wore at the monstrous pile of sticky fabric between Wilson's equally sticky hands.

"Take off your shirt."

Two half glazed eyes found his in that moment, a coy, almost cheeky grin tugging at his cheeks. "That's a bit forward, even for you, Higgs-" He hissed, the soft chuckle that had rumbled through his chest pulling further at his wound. His hand pushing deeper into his side, his smile dropping into a gritted grimace without preamble, as if the effort to hold the mask on had finally escaped him.

"Not the time." Wilson dropped the bandages to the floor before trying unsuccessfully to push his hands away from his side. He growled uselessly as Maxwell listlessly kept pressure there instead of letting him take over. "_Maxwell._"

Maxwell blinked at him, taken aback by the sharp tone. Hus eyebrows furrowed, his mouth a thin line, but it didn't quite appear that he knew exactly what was going on, only that Wilson had snapped at him.

A fact that Wilson was not at all liking.

"Come on. Take it off, or do I have to take it off for you?"

"Well, now that is a proposition if I've ever-" Another wince cut off the remark, though he refused to let it stop him, his breath whistling through his teeth in a hiss of pain. "-heard one."

Wilson snorted, shaking his head as he slapped Maxwell's hands away from his wound and got to work with little fanfare, pulling Maxwell's jacket off his shoulders before beginning on his shirt buttons. "As if you have ever heard one before to know what they sound like."

"A gentleman does not kiss and tell-" Maxwell sniffed, breathing through his nose to stop from yelping as Wilson checked over the gouges in his side. "-though you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" A soft grunt of pain fell from his lips, his glare intensifying. "Have you always been this impertinent?" 

"Right now all that stands between you and death_ is_ this impertinent fellow." Wilson refused to look up at him, instead continuing his ministrations, cleaning the slashes as much as was possible with their limited resources. "So perhaps we shouldn't try to insult him, how about that?"

"Well, what else should I do exactly?"

"Oh, I don't know." Wilson rolled his eyes, glad at least that Maxwell was still himself despite the injury. He began to wrap the bandages around his middle, amused yet again by the disgruntled sounds that emanated from the feeling of the sticky, viscous material to his skin. "Tell me a joke or something."

"A joke? Are you trying to see if I've gone completely insane while we've been sitting here? I'm a magician not a _clown_."

"Really? You could have fooled me."

Maxwell glared at him. "Your bedside manner is dreadful. I'm glad you decided on scientist instead of doctor."

Wilson shook his head. "Well, I never wanted to deal with dreadful patients either- will you just sit still for two more minutes?"

Silence took centre stage for awhile as Maxwell huffed one last noise of discontent before letting him continue with his work. It was a lot quicker this way, much to Wilson's relief, though also a lot less comforting. He would never admit as such, but at least the other's insulting mockery of him let him know that he was still feeling himself despite the blood loss. All that their work was interspersed with now was sounds of pain, and mild half apologies cast out into the night.

That is until Maxwell spoke again, derailing Wilson's thoughts once more just as he finished his final loop of bandages and secured it.

"Why is the medical profession so tedious?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Because it requires more patients than others."

Wilson stared at Maxwell, blinking dazedly as the other gave him a mocking grin. It was haphazard, lopsided and crooked in it's delivery, his eyes half lidded as if the world was just that little bit less tangible than it was at any other time.

And then it dawned on him.

"Was that a joke?"

Maxwell's grin wavered into a childish pout, a look he was sure he would never let himself wear if he was aware of it. "You asked for one."

"You were right, that was terrible."

Maxwell grunted. "What? Would you like a magic trick instead?"

"No- no, that requires movement and as your _doctor_ I'm telling you to rest."

There was another snort of laughter, though the other still complied letting himself be pushed into a laying position. "You're not a doctor- you only have one patient." The words were mumbled, already festering with layers of sleep as his eyes drooped further.

Wilson chuckled, making sure the other was comfortable and getting rid of the bloodstained fabric still bunched around him. "Yes, well, this one requires far more patience than most. Now sleep already."

He wasn't sure his words had even finished before the others breathing evened out into fitful slumber.

~~~

Maxwell groaned as he awoke, the stinging pain from before now a pulsing thick ache that seemed to have spread throughout his entire body. 

At least he felt more like himself, the world wasn't spinning quite as much as it had been and he had the slightest inclination that he might have embarrassed himself with his behaviour in the fog of his recollections.

He ran his hands around him, trying to gauge where he was and frowned at the warm pliant fibres that seemed to engulf him. He blinked open blurry eyes and found his vision half encased by downy fur that he vaguely remembered sheering off of sleeping beasts with satisfied glee. It better served it's purpose with him, that he was sure and the feel of it around him deepened the warmth that must have slowly suffused through his chest in his sleep, warming up the embers there and tugging him once more towards sleep's blissful embrace.

A soft curse roused him enough to ignore the tempting pull however, propping himself up as quietly and painfully as he could to check on his companion.

Wilson sat undisturbed on the other side of the fire, his hands working deftly with more of the beefalo wool they had scrounged together. He placed one finger in his mouth, his mouth frowning in pain before he went back to his task, stitching and knitting more of the course wool together into unrecognisable but no doubt warm garments. 

Maxwell tugged the blanket up further around him, musing and observing before finally giving into conventional civility.

After all, he guessed sometimes Wilson might- perhaps- deserve it.

"...Thank you."

Wilson paused in his work, though he didn't look up. He raised an eyebrow, smiling ever so softly in a childish way. 

"Was that another one of your terrible jokes?"

Maxwell sniffed disdainfully, mind too slow to think of a good comeback quickly. "No. Would you rather I wasn't grateful?"

"No, no." Wilson hummed, hands continuing their ministrations unperturbed. Maxwell didn't miss how his smile spread wider though, mischievous and teasing in every facet. "Just a very nice surprise is all." He looked up, flicking glinting eyes towards him for barely a second. "But it is a surprise, none the less. Did you hit your head as well when you fell? Or should I be concerned that you lost more blood than I anticipated before?"

Maxwell scowled, though a huff of amusement did escape him as he laid back down next to the fire. "You really are the most insolent man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting."

"There we go. That's more like the Maxwell I know."

**Author's Note:**

> I took forever looking up Victorian humour, don't judge me, judge Maxwell for the joke.  
Why is the two of them bickering so much fun to write? <3


End file.
